A Dark Day at Cackles
by Random Character Generator
Summary: The founding stone may be restored, but there are still consequences to be faced. (Set at the end of the season two finale.)
1. Chapter 1

**November 1st 23:30**

"Ethel no!"

The words were screamed into the still night air, but the figure stood in front of the picture didn't flinch. The spellbook sat open on the table, the witch's hands poised mid-cast.

"You can't, you mustn't do this."

The door slammed shut in the protester's face and there was soon pounding on the door. "You can't do this Ethel. You can't let Agatha out." The handle moved violently up and down, but the door was never going to move. It was shut and magically sealed.

Ethel tried to tune the voice out of her head and concentrate on the words on the page. This wasn't some second level spell she was trying to cast here. It had taken the combined magic of HB and Miss Cackle to get Agatha trapped in the picture in the first place; it was going to take everything she had to get the witch back out again.

The pounding on the door continued unabated and Ethel flexed her fingers. There was only going to be one chance to get this right. The desperate pleas from the corridor were mere background noise as she uttered the first words of the spell and felt the magic form in the air around her. The world shifted slightly and a shimmer appeared before her… it was working; the spell was actually working. She tried to push down the feeling of excitement and instead concentrate on the job in hand. None of them had listened to her, now; now she was going to show them.

* * *

 **October 31st 21:00**

The last notes of the song hung in the air and Esmeralda Hallow closed her eyes, taking in the moment. For the first time in what felt like forever, she was surrounded by magic and felt a part of it. Magic once again coursed through her veins and it wasn't a feeling she ever wanted to lose. She heard the applause and the laughter from the other girls as they carried on their evening unburdened by the weight of responsibility. She envied them that. Miss Cackle had mentioned the need to sort out the events of recent days, and she had felt the head teacher's eyes fall directly on her. She had been at fault; the whole series of events could be traced back to her one action in the turret room. She'd tried to shake the feeling, and to concentrate instead on the positives, but her mind kept bringing her back to the same place. She had, not for the first time, been at the very heart of an act that had nearly destroyed the school.

She had been the head girl once; had been feted as the most promising young witch to pass through the school in a number of years. It had never been a label that had sat easily on her shoulders, and she'd always sought to distance herself from the attention it brought her. Now, now she felt as though she'd be lucky to be allowed to remain within the castle walls. Whilst there had been no formal removal of her name from school records, she doubted she'd ever be permitted to wear the sash again.

There was a tug on her arm and it brought her out of her reverie; she glanced down to see her younger sister looking expectantly up at her, and realised she'd not taken in a word Sybil had said. It wasn't unusual for Sybil to seek to be with her, but even by her standards she was being remarkably clingy.

"What's up Syb?" she asked, her own concerns pushed immediately to one side.

"You will stay, won't you?"

She opened her mouth to reply and then promptly closed it again. She was supposed to go home; it was expected. Their mother had made it perfectly clear she should be back before the end of the day. There had been promises of days away, but behind it there was still a simmering, barely suppressed, anger. She had been ordered not to visit the school, been ordered to never again set foot within the castle walls whilst the woman her mother blamed for the loss of her magic was still in charge. She had ignored the words and followed her heart. There would eventually be reprisals for that; she just didn't know for certain where the blame would finally settle. Her mother had an infinite capacity for apportioning blame far and wide.

"Esme?"

She looked down into Sybil's wide eyes and knew in that moment she had no choice.

"Of course I'll stay." She turned her head as soon as the words had fallen from her mouth, her gaze settling on Miss Cackle. "That is to say, I'll stay if it's permitted."

There was a pause, a pause that felt uncomfortably long, and then a small nod of assent from the head of the school. Esme rocked back on her heels as her sister threw her arms around her, and held her as tightly as she could. She placed her own arms protectively around the young girl.

"Thank you Miss Cackle. It means a lot to me, to us." Her eyes sought out Ethel who was standing just out of her reach, but the look wasn't acknowledged. Her heart sank; she didn't want things to return to this state so quickly. She had hoped Ethel would relent a little. She didn't want anything other than to be in the company of both her sisters, but Ethel never seemed to see it that way, always imagining some hidden agenda that was never there.

"I thought mother was sending someone to collect you." Only Ethel could make the sentence sound bitter; as though she was the one who wanted to leave the festivities and head back to a house that had all the welcoming ambiance of a mausoleum. The place had never been particularly full of life but, since the ruling of the Great Wizard, every day had been a trial. Her mere presence in the house serving as a constant reminder of all that had befallen the family name.

"I'm sure Mrs Hallow will understand." Esme was grateful for the unexpected intervention by Miss Cackle. "We'll get word to her, don't you worry."

Ethel scowled at the comment, but said nothing. There was some sharp comment on the tip of her tongue - Esme was certain of that - but whatever it was Ethel kept it to herself, turning on her heel and stalking away.

"Esmeralda. I think perhaps we should have a few words." There was that small, almost sad, smile on Miss Cackle's face. Esme swallowed nervously; not certain that she wanted to know what was coming. She gently attempted to prise herself away from Sybil, but her sister only clung on tighter, her head buried in the folds of her jacket. "Syb, please. I'll only be a few minutes." She looked to Miss Cackle for confirmation, and received a nod of agreement. "I'll be straight back."

"Promise?" The muffled word was barely audible.

"I promise." She tried again, and this time felt Sybil's grip loosening. "Clarice and Beatrice are just over there. I'm sure they'll want to talk to you after everything that's happened today."

Sybil's hands finally dropped away, and Esme caught sight of the tears that were brimming in her youngest sister's eyes. She smiled and gently wiped them away with her thumb as they silently fell. "Today is a day for happiness Syb, not tears." She squeezed her shoulders, and then turned her around and pointed her in the direction of her two friends. She had sensed them hovering on the edge of her peripheral vision, wanting to come over, but not wanting to intrude. She smiled at the two girls and gave Sybil a gentle push in their direction. Bea acknowledged her with a wide grin, and then moments later she lost sight of the three of them as they wrapped arms around each other and disappeared into the crowd. Sybil would be fine; she had good friends who would look after her.

She turned back to speak to Miss Cackle and the world swam alarmingly before her eyes. She gripped the back of the nearest chair for support, and willed the room to stop spinning.

"Are you alright?" There was concern in Miss Cackle's voice but Esme imagined that she could sense a note of fear mixed in there as well.

"I'm fine," she replied, trying to convince herself as much as the witch in front of her. Her fingers burned red hot and she fought to keep her magic contained. "I'm just tired…it's been something of a long day."

"Perhaps the little chat can wait."

"No really. I'm fine. Honestly." She forced a smile onto her face. "I think it was all that dancing. I think I'm a little out of practice."

"If you're sure my dear…"

"I'm sure," Esme gripped the back of the chair tighter. She had just regained her magic; she wasn't about to do anything that might see it taken away again.

* * *

Melody Evensong sighed heavily as a fat raindrop splashed down with an audible slap upon the brim of her hat. It was bad enough being sent out on Halloween of all nights, the one thing she didn't need was for the heavens to open and leave her looking like a drowned rat. She hefted her broom from her left to her right shoulder and pushed up the brim of her hat with her free hand. The broom, which had served her well since her first year at school, had carried her halfway up the hill before deciding that it wasn't prepared to go any further. It had, at least, had the decency to lower her gently to earth, rather than plummeting from the sky like a dead weight. She'd tried tapping it firmly and threatening it with summary burning on a bonfire if it didn't buck its ideas up, but it had simply stayed on the ground and sulked. Melody wasn't a hundred percent certain that a broom could sulk, but it was the only rational explanation she could think of.

She sighed again as her right boot sank deep into the soft earth. It was as though everything in the world was conspiring against her. She took a pause and tried to gather her thoughts. She'd been taught to centre her thoughts and to try and find the positives in any situation. She chewed her lip and then tried screwing her eyes tight shut. The rain fell heavily down upon her and she gave up trying to be positive and let out a long stream of invective that would not be considered becoming to a member of the witches council.

She was one of the youngest witches to be co-oped onto the council. She'd imagined, upon joining, that she'd been brought in to shake things up, and to try and bring in a new, forward looking, momentum to modern witching. Now it was starting to dawn on her that she was only there to pick up the work that no other council member in their right mind would take on.

The story coming out of Cackle's Academy beggared belief. The Great Wizard himself had swooped in and removed one member of staff to some other location, and that's when she'd been called in…. After all the action was over, because they needed someone to ask all the awkward questions regarding how the school's founding stone had come to lose its magic in the first place.

The rainfall became noticeably heavier and Melody pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. She shouldn't be out traipsing along muddy paths and unkempt undergrowth on Halloween. She should be with her own coven, singing, and knocking back a glass or two of something. Above the steady pounding of rain she heard the unmistakable sound of twigs snapping.

"If you want to try some sort of Halloween prank, you're going to have to try harder than that!" Honestly, did they really think she'd not hear their approach when they had all the subtlety of a ten tonne elephant. There was no response, no stepping out of the shadows to own up to their actions. Melody's sigh became heavier. What was Ada Cackle teaching her students these days. "Come on girls," she was starting to lose patience. "Whilst you may think yourselves rather clever, you're not. You really should know the basics of a sneak potion by now."

She spun smartly on her heel, ready to catch her pursuers in the act, a spell on the tip of her tongue ready to scare them with. If they wanted to prank a member of the witch's council, they were going to have to work a lot harder.

The words of the spell were lost as she surveyed the space in front of her and saw nothing but the trees and bushes. She had heard them, heard them above the sound of the pounding rain. She'd not imagined it.

"Come on," she called out into the darkness. "I don't have time for this!"

Somewhere over her shoulder she heard a faint rustling sound. It grew in volume and within moments the bushes that surrounded her started moving as though whipped up by a gust of wind. She stood in the patch of stillness where only the rain fell and tried to fight against the wave of fear that was steadily rising within. Her heart thumping hard against her ribcage, adrenaline racing through her body as it reacted to the danger she was in. The rustling behind her grew louder, the air around her swirling and battering against the vegetation but leaving her untouched. She flexed her fingers, her broomstick clattering to the floor as she turned smartly, and prepared to face what was coming for her head on.

The scream that followed rent the air. Wildlife venturing out on their night-time prowl paused in mid-step as they heard the shrill cry. Dark magic walked abroad.


	2. Chapter 2

The celebrations in the great hall were drawing to a natural close. Where earlier there had been large groups singing and whirling around to the surprisingly lively tunes Miss Bat had managed to produce from the school organ, there were now much smaller groups and they were mostly slumped in tired heaps around the edges of the room. Some of the younger witches had already drifted away towards their rooms, their own desires to stay up as late as was possible defeated by sheer tiredness and a general overindulgence in sweet foods that weren't usually to be found on the school's menu.

Enid Nightshade watched them stumble out of the room, tripping over their own feet with tiredness and shook her head at their lack of staying power. She was determined to stay up until Miss Hardbroom clapped her hands together and demanded everyone retire for the night. She'd made a pact with Mildred and Maud. They would be the last witches standing. There might be stencilled rolls of honour hung on the walls that boasted of the various academic achievements of past pupils, but there was an equally important honour roll that was scratched into the wood on one of the panels in the broomshed. It detailed those witches who had stayed up until morning after Halloween, who had out lasted their classmates and claimed the honour of being the last to fall. Enid knew she'd never get her name up on one of the stencilled boards, so she'd set her sights on something she was more certain of being able to achieve.

Enid glanced at the offerings that remained and helped herself to another cupcake from the nearest table, trying to ignore the uncomfortable warning lurch from her stomach. It was free food; it was free food that wasn't fruit. She made a half-hearted effort to peel the casing away from the soft sponge and then changed her mind, putting it back down on the plate again letting out a defeated sigh. "Sometimes there is such a thing as too many cakes." She looked immediately towards her two friends, her eyes narrowing. "Tell no-one I said that."

Maud's eyes glanced over the remnants of the Halloween feast that were scattered across the long wooden table next to them. "Not another mouthful," she agreed. Her face lit up moments later as she caught sight of a bowl of jelly snakes. "Well, maybe just one," she admitted as she sidled off towards them.

"She's one of the only girls I know who loves snakes." Enid joked. When Mildred didn't reply, Enid glanced towards her friend. She rolled her eyes as she realised what had caught her attention.

"Stop fangirling and just go and talk to her."

Mildred slapped at Enid's arm by way of a response.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" The reply was fired back quickly enough, but Enid spotted the blush that coloured Mildred's cheeks.

"It's just Esmeralda Hallow for heaven's sake." Enid had told herself that she wasn't about to be impressed by the older girl just because she had somehow managed to regain her power from a founding stone. Yes, it was something that was pretty much unheard of, but that didn't mean she had to be impressed by it. Certainly not in the way that Mildred seemed to be. "You've spoken to her often enough. If you've got something to say, just go over there and say it."

"But that was before…"

Enid sighed again. "Magic is magic Mildred. There's nothing…"

"It's Hubble magic," Mildred cut across her, as she twisted the end of one of her plaits. "Until today I thought I was the only witch in my family, but I'm not."

A frown formed on Enid's face as she struggled to follow Mildred's train of thought.

"You do know she's a Hallow…." It was possible that Mildred had muddled the situation in her head. With her track record in the school so far, it wasn't completely beyond the bounds of possibility.

"The magic in the founding stone belonged to my family." Mildred's attention was fully on the elder Hallow now. Enid had the impression she could wave a hand in front of her friend's face and it wouldn't make a blind bit of difference. "All the magic my family might have wielded." Her eyes shone wider with the thought. "I should talk to her."

"Maybe not just now," Enid suggested, thinking that perhaps Esmeralda had already been through enough for one day. Getting your magic back and then being responsible for nearly causing the complete destruction of the school was bound to take the edge off your mood.

"I ought to say something though," Mildred wound the plait around her finger a few more times before it finally spun off and smacked against her shoulder. "Find out if there's any difference between Hallow magic and Hubble magic."

Enid shook her head; there was going to be no getting through to Mildred until she'd sorted things out for herself. She nudged her friend. "That particular conversation might have to wait. I don't think you're going to get her away from Miss Cackle any time soon."

A smile formed on Mildred's face. "I'm not so sure about that."

* * *

"Miss Cackle…. Miss Cackle…" there was a level of persistence in the tone that made it very hard to ignore. Ada Cackle had been teaching young witches for longer than she cared to remember and there was definitely a sliding scale when it came to persistent voices. There were those you didn't ignore because the last thing you had instructed the speaker to do was make a potentially volatile potion, and at the other end there were those who were scared of their own shadow and were merely afraid they would choose the wrong ingredient. This particular persistence came in the form of a whine and a hopping about from one foot to the other. It was down near the bottom of the scale, but sufficiently irritating enough to draw her in. Reluctantly, Ada turned her attention away from Esmeralda and down towards the slightly damp first year whose name she regrettably couldn't quite recall. "My dear girl, what on earth have you been doing?"

"It's raining rather heavily out there Miss Cackle," the young witch replied earnestly as rainwater dripped steadily from the bottom of her cloak onto the floor. Ada noted the way the girl's eyes widened slightly as she realised who she'd interrupted. She took a step backwards. "The bell rang… at the front gate. I was passing and…" she tailed off. Her words were still directed at Ada, but her eyes were now fixed firmly on Esmeralda. Ada frowned; she'd noticed a few of the first years keeping their distance during the evening. There had been gossip amongst that group at the start of the year regarding Esmeralda. It looked as though interest in her had just increased again.

"You were passing and…." Ada tried to get the young witch back on course.

There was a vague waving of an arm in the direction of the hallway. Ada clicked her tongue against her teeth. She risked a quick glance in Esme's direction, but the young woman's eyes were cast towards the ground as she nervously fiddled with the hem of her jacket, oblivious to the affect she was having on those around her.

"Come along." She put her hands on the shoulders of the girl and turned her around, pushing her gently towards the door. "Why don't you show me what it was you discovered at the front gate."

As she headed away from the room, she managed to catch the eye of Hecate, who was standing in the corner as though waiting to be summoned into action. She'd wanted to talk to Esmeralda, but it seemed as though she wasn't to be permitted a moments peace. Hecate acknowledged the look and somehow managed to straighten up further before heading off to take over where she'd left off.

* * *

The rain was coming down in torrents. Julie Hubble was soaked to the skin and beginning to bitterly regret turning down the offer of a magical lift home. It had been the supercilious sneer on Hecate Hardbroom's face that had caused her to fold her arms and insist she was fine. She was certain the witch was now having a private cackle to herself, imaging the drenching she was on the receiving end of. She didn't know why she let the potions teacher get to her on this occasion. She always told herself she wasn't going to be impressed by anything the witches in the school did. The more she told herself it was nothing more than some slightly offbeat boarding school, the more she was able to treat the magic as just another subject her daughter was taking that she didn't understand…. Like algebra. It had, on reflection, been something of a momentous day. Mildred had spent the whole of the previous year trying to find out if there was some sort of magical skeleton in the closet somewhere, and she'd done her best to let her daughter down gently, but here she was today finding out that they were both descendants of the very witch that had given up her magic to reignite a founding stone. Mildred had asked her if she'd wished she'd been magical and she'd surprised herself with her quick reply. She thought on the matter again as she turned a corner and decided that all things considered, she was much happier exactly as she was.

She turned up the collar of her coat in a wasted effort to stop the rain from running straight down the back of her neck. There was still a good way to go until she reached the bottom of the hill and then she'd have the unparalleled joy of trying to find a bus. She was so caught up in trying to remember if the number eighty eight ran until late that she nearly tripped over the broomstick that was lying on the path.

"Honestly girls!" Her first thought was that someone needed to take better care of their possessions. Julie ran the thought through her mind again. A year ago a discarded broom wouldn't have attracted even the slightest bit of attention beyond a tut that someone had left some naff Halloween prop out in the forest, but now, now that she knew that there really were witches who flew about the skies on creaking bits of old wood… and that really wasn't something she wanted to think about someone with Mildred's level of clumsiness doing…she looked at the bedraggled looking broomstick in a whole new light. She slowed her pace, uncertain still if the things really did have a life of their own, or if they were only responsive when bossed about by those of a magical persuasion.

"Good broom," she said experimentally, and was quietly relieved when there was no response.

She stepped closer. The heavy rain was restricting her vision, but she was fairly certain there was something else near the broom. She just wasn't yet sure what shape that something took.

"Good broom," she said again and edged ever closer.

Blinking the rain out of her eyes she made out a dark shape at the side of the path ahead. It lay only a few metres away from the broom, almost lost within the heavy undergrowth. Pushing her soaking hair back from her face, she forgot all about her broomstick unease and ploughed through the thick mud and greenery towards what was now revealed as a distinctly human shape.

The woman was young, barely out of her teens from what little Julie could see of her. A black cloak was swathed around her, a hat with an unmistakable point lay only a short distance away. What was the young witch doing out on her own on Halloween? She knelt beside her and nervously pressed two fingers against her neck. Her skin was freezing to the touch but there was the faintest of pulses. She let out a breath she'd not realised she'd been holding and sat back on her heels. How she was going to get the woman to somewhere she could receive medical attention she had no idea. She glanced back up the way she'd come. It was probably further to go to get to the castle, but probably less time to get help to the stricken witch. There was precious little by way of cover, the rain penetrating the canopy of the trees and soaking everything beneath.

Not expecting much joy, she pulled her phone from her coat pocket and saw the expected lack of coverage. Not even a single bar. The mobile reception, that was patchy at the best of times, had completely given out. Dimity had said something to her earlier in the evening about the accelerated levels of magic in the air having an effect and she'd nodded but not really understood.

She glanced once again in the direction of the broom. Witches flew on them…. Eleven year old witches flew on them. Eleven year old witches who had only recently discovered their magical heritage flew on them.

She gave the broom a tentative nudge with her right foot. "If I was to tell you to hover, what would you do?" She let out what could only be described as a yelp as the broom twitched. She clasped a hand to her chest and quickly glanced around. She'd seen Mildred practice with the broom in the living room before. She'd warned her that flying indoors was most definitely not on the cards, but she was happy for basic broom control to go ahead. She briefly closed her eyes and then held her right arm out straight in the way she'd seen Mildred do. "Hover," she ordered; feeling immediately self-conscious. There was no movement from the broom and Julie wondered if perhaps it had been some small rodent that had caused the broom to move. "Hover." She tried putting a bit more 'mum' voice into it and that seemed to do the trick. There was a definite rustle as the broom considered responding to her call. It rose a few inches off the ground and then dropped back down again. "HOVER, YOU BLOODY STUPID PIECE OF WOOD, HOVER." She was past being patient with it now.

There was a twitch and a jump and then, without warning, the broom shot up in the air. It arrowed straight up towards the topmost branches of the trees.

"I said hover not achieve orbit," she yelled after it. She tried shielding her eyes to see if she could track its progress, but it had to all intents and purposes vanished. Writing the broom off as a bad idea, she turned her attention back to the stricken witch. She had to get help to the woman, she just wasn't sure how to go about achieving that.

* * *

Ada bustled along the dark draughty corridor that led to the main door. It was one of the parts of the castle that had proved impossible to keep warm. She had seen a number of people down the years who had tapped the stones, sucked the air in over their teeth, thoughtfully chewed the ends of their pencils, and then vanished off without ever providing any sort of satisfactory solution. Ada had reluctantly come to accept that freezing draughts were a feature of the school, although she wasn't yet ready to write it into the prospectus.

She had managed to get a few details out of the first year pupil once she'd persuaded the girl out of the hall and finally remembered that her name was Lottie something. The details provided by Lottie were on the sketchy side though and amounted to little more than 'there's someone at the main door for you.' She'd thanked the young witch anyway and ushered her back towards the main hall.

She patted down the front of her cardigan, checking that she wasn't still draped in any of the Halloween decorations that had been strung about the place. It was a little undignified to be having a conversation with someone and not know that a cat toy was hanging from a loose thread.

The first thing she noticed as she approached the visitor was the puddle that was gathering on the stone flags. The woman's clock was dripping with rainwater.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," she began. The witch turned around at the sound of her voice and Ada was surprised to see such a young face beneath the sodden hat. She'd half-expected the visitor to be some concerned parent, or guardian. The witch standing in front of her was decidedly too young to be either of those.

"Melody Evensong. New addition to the council," the woman introduced herself with a nervous smile, and Ada realised she'd not offered the new arrival any sort of greeting. "Well met Miss Evensong," she said rather belatedly.

"Well met Miss Cackle."

"I'm sorry, I was rather surprised to see your cloak so wet. Is it…"

"Absolutely heaving down. Started as I neared the castle. Rather a localised storm, but if the stories coming out of this castle are anything to go by, then that's not entirely unexpected. I hear it was rather colder here a few hours ago."

"Bad news does travel fast."

"I'm here at the behest of the council. They'd like a report or two before morning."

Ada glanced down at her watch. "At this hour. It is a little late."

"The Great Wizard was rather insistent." There was a tone in the witch's voice that told Ada she'd rather be anywhere than standing dripping water onto cold flagstones.

"Of course, but perhaps we should get you in out of the cold." She offered to take the cloak and the hat. "Perhaps I could sort these out for you."

"Thank you." She undid the clasp at her neck and peeled the cloak from her shoulders. "Magic is not working in the way it should out there," she explained as she lifted the sodden hat from her head and tried to tuck the stray strands of blond hair behind her ears. "I'm assuming it's some leftover hoodoo from the earlier unpleasantness."

Ada frowned. There had been no mention of iffy magic when Miss Mould had been collected, but then again she assumed that at that precise moment in time, the Great Wizard may have had one or two more pressing things on his mind. "Please Miss Evensong, you must think me a dreadful host. Come this way and if you permit, we can sort out getting you a little warmer."

She took the soaked garments from their guest and attempted a drying spell on them. She frowned as nothing happened.

"As I said, things haven't been working entirely as they should."

"Dear me," Ada fretted as she gestured for Miss Evensong to follow her. "I do hope this doesn't last long."

She led the way down the corridor, trying her best to put her guest at ease. What she didn't see were the dark shadows that clung to the walls and swirled around every item of furniture. They had their foothold in the school. Now they just had to wait.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Many thanks for the reviews. They really do put a spring in my step and remind me that I need to keep posting.**_

 _ **For the benefit of this story the founding stone of Cackles was the same one that was repowered by Mirabellle Hubble.**_

* * *

Esme stared down at her hands and wished she didn't feel so ill at ease. She had spent months wanting nothing more than to be back within the walls of the school but now, as she sat in Miss Cackle's office and waited for the representative of the witches council to enter the room, she felt a knot of nervousness in the pit of her stomach. Miss Cackle had warned that there would be repercussions for all those involved in the events of the day. Whatever happened she didn't want Miss Cackle to take any of the blame.

She turned her head as the door creaked open and a young woman entered the room. She'd met most of the senior members of the council at one point or another as her mother insisted on throwing parties and inviting along anyone who she imagined would help her climb up into the highest ranks of the council. She forced a smile onto her face. This woman was in her mid-twenties at most; she was definitely not one of the hatchet-faced old crones she'd been expecting.

"Well met," the greeting was uttered with a smile. "You, I take it, are Esmeralda Hallow?"

Esme nodded, wincing as she felt a throbbing pain behind her right eye. "Well met."

"You should take something for that," the woman told her as she took up the chair on the far side of the desk that was usually occupied by Miss Cackle. She raised a hand. "I would offer, but it appears my own magic is being affected by whatever has been going on around here."

Esme waved the offer away. "I'm fine, really. It's just a headache."

There was another warm smile as the woman settled back into the chair. "I'm Melody Evensong. I know the council would prefer it if I were to insist you call me Miss Evensong, but it's Halloween and I am here, not with my own coven, so rules be damned."

Esme didn't know what she was supposed to say, so she simply sat there and waited for the woman to carry on.

"Halloween should be a time for celebration, not a time to be looking to find fault with a sister witch. There will have to be answers but I want you to know that I'm not here to judge, not here to tell you that you'll be cast out of the sisterhood without further recourse to magic."

Esme allowed herself to relax a little. She hadn't realised just how tense she'd been; how scared that perhaps the events of the day would lead to her losing all rights to magic again.

"I will have to investigate, have to find out how and why a founding stone was drained of its magic."

"I'll tell you all I know," Esme was quick to speak up, but her words fell away as Melody raised a hand.

"Don't be too eager," she advised. "I am only the first. Others will come and they will be looking for answers. I just need to give them the broad brush strokes. The outline if you will. There will be time for you to sit with Miss Cackle and perhaps Miss Hardbroom and decide amongst yourselves what did or didn't happen."

There was a lightness to Melody's voice, but Esme wasn't sure she liked what was being suggested.

"I'm not interested in making anything up. I'll say what happened and be judged on that."

"You took magic that wasn't yours to take."

"I had no choice," Esme protested.

"You had a choice. There was a choice to be made and you made it. You wilfully took the magic from the founding stone of the school. You put yourself and your sister above the safety of everyone else in this school. That's remarkably selfish."

"My sister would have fallen from the roof of the tower." Esme pushed herself to her feet; immediately grabbing hold of the edge of the table in front of her with both hands as her head swam with the sudden movement.

"To value one life above all others. That is not what witchcraft is about. All witches are your kin."

"I had seconds to make a call." Esme fought to stay focused as the world around her swam before her eyes. She felt hands close tightly over her arms and she tried and failed to pull away.

"Darkness falls. It walks upon the land thanks to you."

The words burned their way into her mind and she tried again to pull away.

"We will have what we want." The grip on her arms was released and she sat back heavily on the chair as she was pushed away. Pain lanced through her skull and she pressed both hands against her head, trying to contain it. Blackness edged the periphery of her vision. She closed her eyes, convinced that she was about to pass out.

"Well, perhaps we should pick this up in the morning."

Esme blinked, her hands dropping to her side as the pain vanishing as quickly as it had struck. She glanced across the table at Miss Evensong. The woman was smiling at her as though nothing was wrong.

"I'm sorry, I …" She tailed off; the events of the last few minutes unclear in her mind. She tried to grab hold of a memory, to recall what had passed between them, but there was nothing but a grey fog.

She heard the scuff of the chair against the stone floor as Miss Evensong rose to her feet.

"You must be tired. This perhaps isn't the best time to be asking such questions. We will speak again tomorrow when you are properly rested and I have finally shaken the last of the rain from my hat."

"I.." Esme was at a loss. Her memory of the last few minutes was a blank. She had no idea what they'd spoken about.

"Are you are feeling ok?" Miss Evensong motioned back to the door. "I can fetch Miss Cackle or one of the other teachers if you are not feeling well."

Esme shook her head. "I'm…. I'm fine… thank you."

"The school will fall and you will be the key."

"I'm…. I'm sorry?" She had heard the words this time, she was certain of it. There was a look of bemusement on Miss Evensong's face.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright? From what I hear it must have been something of a trying day."

Esme rubbed at her temples. "You're probably right. I should get some rest." She pushed herself up out of the chair and walked slowly towards the door, not seeing the way that the corners of Miss Evensong's mouth curled up into a sly smile.

* * *

The rain was not showing any sign of relenting. It hammered down relentlessly upon the dense woodland that surrounded the castle.

Julie had tried to shelter the unconscious witch as best she could before making her way back onto the path. She looked up at the steep, curving track that weaved its way through the trees. She'd never been one of life's natural runners, but she was going to have to push herself if she wanted to get help quickly. She took a few steadying breaths. Magical help was the only sort of help that was going to be of any use. That meant getting back to the school without delay.

"Come on Julie," she told herself, in what she hoped was an encouraging manner. "You can do this."

"Stop!" She'd not covered more than twenty metres when a commanding voice cut through the air. She skidded to a halt and looked around, her heart pounding in her chest, trying to see where the voice had come from. Her eyes took in nothing but the impenetrable woodland around her. She was at the point of telling herself she'd imagined it, when there was a thudding noise and a tall, black-cloaked figure appeared out of nowhere immediately in front of her. She let out an involuntary yelp and clutched a hand to her chest.

"For the love of…. Can you lot stop doing that. You could scare years off a person."

The tall witch regarded her steadily for a few seconds, before apparently deciding that it wasn't worth apologising.

"Going from your inability to see me whilst I had my broom in hand." There was a pause and Julie had the distinct impression she was being judged. "I'm assuming this isn't yours?"

She glanced down as the witch nudged one of the two brooms that lay on the floor with her left foot.

"Not mine," she concurred.

"Hmmm. Damn thing nearly careered right into me. I can't abide careless broom owners. No thought for the rest of the world and the fact that someone else might be out and about." The witch was swaying gently and Julie caught a definite whiff of something decidedly alcoholic.

"Been out celebrating, have we?"

The witch blinked slowly at her and then attempted to tap the side of her nose. "Just had the one," she slurred as she managed to catch the end of her nose on the fourth attempt. By her own admission Julie wasn't that good at guessing the age of witches and she was pretty sure it was considered rude to ask. There were times where the things Mildred told her got muddled in with things she'd read in books when she was younger, where witches had, by and large, been the villain of the piece. This woman appeared to be roughly her own age, but there was precious little of her to see. Her hat and cloak covered up most of her, and it was only the snub nose and deep blue eyes she could see. Eyes that were very definitely finding it hard to focus.

"Why do these things happen to me," she asked no-one in particular. She pointed down the path. "There's another witch back there… unconscious. I was trying to get help for her. By the look of you I now need to get help for two witches!"

The witch made a good attempt to straighten up and look serious. "Where's she? Show me."

Julie eyed the swaying witch for a few moments before realising she had nothing to lose. Magical help of any sort had to be better than no magical help at all. She led the way back through the undergrowth; behind her there was a lot of swearing as the witch appeared to trip over every possible tree root and shrub.

* * *

Esme moved silently through the deserted corridors of the castle, fingers brushing against the rough stone, taking the longest route she could back to the others. The school had always felt more like home than home ever had. She had always felt welcomed within the walls and now once again she felt the magic reach out. The place was never truly silent; there was always the subtle murmuring of magic in the air if you took the time to listen to its song. It was a melody she'd not been able to hear in months, and in the cold grey chill of night she took in its comforting presence welcoming her back.

The world had seemed such a stark, empty place without magic. Having been surrounded by it all her life its abrupt absence had been hard to accept and, if she was honest with herself, she'd not coped at all well. Her parents had kept her away from her sisters; almost as though they feared the loss of magic was somehow contagious. That sense of isolation had been hard to take and had served to compound the overwhelming feeling of loss. She had withdrawn into herself, not wanting to face the reality of what had happened.

Now; now it was back and she just wanted to enjoy the sensation. She wanted to ignore the pounding in her head and the tiny tremors she felt at the tips of her fingers. She had magic and that was right, that was good. She tried not to dwell on the haziness of the meeting with Miss Evensong. It had been a long day and she was tired. That was all it was. She would have a good night's sleep and then everything would look sharper and clearer in the morning.

She caught a glimpse of something moving out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head, half-expecting to see one of the cats stalking after her but there was nothing there. She shook her head, obviously mistaken, and carried on her way, only there it was again. There was something, on the very edge of her peripheral vision. She was certain of it this time. She spun on her heel, determined to catch sight of whatever it might be, but there was nothing but a few pieces of furniture and the bare walls of corridor. She folded her arms and ignored the pounding in her head.

"Come on," she called out into the darkness. "Show yourself."

She strained to hear any movement, but there was nothing but the gentle song of magic in the air. Frowning, she turned in a slow circle, trying to catch whatever it might have been. In her head she could imagine Miss Hardbroom berating her for an over-active imagination, but she was set on her course now and wasn't about to be dissuaded.

"Come on," she encouraged. "I know you're out there."

She took a pace towards the bend in the corridor where the shadows were darkest. "Come on. I won't bite."

* * *

"You found her like this?" Julie glanced back up from where she was crouched next to the motionless witch, trying to ignore the heavy drops of rain that had by now soaked through everything she was wearing. The new arrival was eaning rather heavily on her broom and squinting down at her. Julie didn't want to ask her just how clear her vision was, but she had the suspicion the witch was seeing at least two of everything.

"Just like this. I mean, I tried to make her comfortable, get her out of the rain, but she was unresponsive when I found her."

"Right. Hold this." The witch let go of the broom and Julie had to react quickly to stop it falling and striking the collapsed woman. "Ooops," came what passed for an apology as the drunken witch staggered back a few paces, somehow managing to retain her balance. She pushed the edges of her cloak away and flexed her fingers. "You might want to…" she motioned with her hand. "Probably best if you're not in the way."

Julie scrambled to her feet and made sure she put a good few feet between them. She watched as the witch staggered again.

"Are you sure you…."

"Sssssshhhhh," there was a hand flapped in her direction. "This will be easier without interruption."

Julie bit back the rest of the question, but quietly took another pace back. She couldn't hear the words that were spoken, but knew that something was happening when she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle. There was an intangible something in the air. She waited expectantly for the next thing to happen, but after a few moments the witch lowered her hands and then turned them towards herself and stared at them.

"That was it?" she asked before she could stop herself. It had been like watching a firework streak into the sky and then fail to go bang. It all felt rather anti-climactic.

"It's never done that before." The words were muttered, but Julie just about made them out.

"You did finish the…. Spell?" She guessed at the word.

The witch drew herself up to her full height. "Are you questioning my prof… my professs… My ability to do my job?"

Julie held up her hands. "The thought never crossed my mind." She laced the words with as much sarcasm as she could, fairly certain it would pass undetected.

"Good." There was more waggling of fingers. "Something is very wrong."

"You're drunk!" Julie was past being polite to the new arrival. "Your magic isn't working because, by the smell of it, you've drunk an industrial amount of alcohol."

"Pfffttt. I might have had one, but I know my limits," came the response.

Julie simply raised a questioning eyebrow as the witch staggered backwards again. A hand was waved around and Julie did her best not to flinch.

"Magic has not been working the way it should around here."

"Bad news travels fast I see."

"So…. Is true?" The witch fixed her with one beady eye as she squinted at her.

"I don't have time for this." There was only so much drunken, unhelpful witch she was prepared to tolerate. "If you're incapable of doing anything useful, then stay here with her whilst I go for help." She looked at the broom she was still clutching in her hands. "You should probably keep off this for a few hours too."

With a surprising turn of speed the witch stepped forward and snatched the broom back from her. "Sssss….mine."

"I know it's yours. You wouldn't get me on one of those things for all the money in the world." She put her hands on her hips and tried to ignore the fact that she was soaked to the skin. "Are you going to do anything remotely helpful, or am I to leave you here with her?"

"Shhhhhh…" The witch looked at the unconscious figure and then down at the broom in her hand as though surprised to see it there. "Take this." She threw it at a surprised Julie and turned back to tend the fallen witch.

Julie tightened her grip on the handle of the broom as she attempted to keep her temper in check. She raised her face to the heavens and welcomed the rain as it pounded against her skin. Witches who'd had a drink or two were more impossible to deal with than regular ones. She closed her eyes and let out a long calming breath.

It was the small explosion next to her ear that brought her back to the present day. She wearily opened one eye to see what damage had been done. She was a little surprised to see the older witch slumped to the ground as though someone had sucked all the life out of her. "She's gone," she reported hollowly.

"What do you mean?" Despite herself, Julie took a pace forward.

The witch pulled the hat from her head, long dark hair falling around her shoulders as she did so. She looked up at Julie, her face drained of all colour, her eyes suddenly clear, all trace of her earlier levity gone. "Her soul's been taken."

* * *

Mildred had rehearsed the line in her head a dozen times now, but she wasn't exactly certain what it would sound like if she was to say it out loud. It sounded right in her head; it sounded like exactly the sort of thing you would say to someone who possessed the magic that had been destined to sustain your family line. She had tried to ignore Enid; had tried to pretend to herself that she wasn't remotely interested in the magic that Esme Hallow now possessed, but the more she turned the thought over in her head, the more she realised that she needed to talk to the older girl. She wanted to know if the magic felt any different to Hallow magic. Did different magic feel different, was that even a thing? She pushed the thought from her mind. She wanted to have a sensible meeting with Esme. They could start with something simple, she could open with a joke about how Esme would never have to catch the bus again, and then see where the conversation went from there. She paused and tapped the side of her head with the flat of her palm. This was just Esme she was going to be talking to. She'd spoken to the older girl a number of times, there was nothing to be worried about. Nothing at all.

She skipped down the short flight of stairs and turned the corner. It was there she skidded to a halt, the thoughts falling from her mind, her eyes widening in fear as she took in the slumped figure on the ground ahead of her. She stood stock still, staring at the unmoving form and willing there to be even the faintest sign of life. There was nothing. She fought for air, fought to give voice to the name on the tip of her tongue, but sound refused to come. She stumbled back a pace and then another, the heels of her boots clattering into the base of a step. The jolt was enough to shake the silence from her shoulders. She raised her head towards the ceiling. "Miss Hardbroom. Miss Cackle!" She shouted their names for all she was worth. She tried to take a pace forward, but fear held her in place. She stood where she was, heart thumping inside her chest as she stared at the motionless form of Esme Hallow.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Apologies for the delay between chapters. It's been a busy few weeks.**_

* * *

Julie tried to get some shelter from the rain by standing as close to the trunk of the nearest tree as she could. It had been a good five minutes since the drunken witch had abruptly sobered up but she still wasn't making much in the way of sense. Julie wrapped her arms around herself in a hopeless effort to stop the freezing wet air from chilling her bones. The witch had said that a soul had been taken. Was that even possible? She watched as a small cloud of blue smoke popped and dissipated. It was, she assumed, some sort of ritual, some sort of witchy mourning process. After her announcement, the witch had remained at the side of the fallen women and refused to answer any questions. She had pushed up her sleeves and embarked on a series of magical somethings that had seemed to grow more out of control as they went along. It was partly her unease at the seemingly wayward magic that led Julie to seek shelter beneath the boughs of the tall oak. She'd endured a summer of Mildred attempting things and knew to her cost just how far the simplest spell could reach. She shook her head at the memory; whilst she'd never really liked the colour of the walls in Mildred's room, she had been hoping to get another year out of them.

She pushed the memory away as she heard low muttered moans as the witch rose slowly to her feet; Julie was fairly sure she caught a mention or two of dodgy knees amid the curses. The woman's face was set in a frown as she made her way over to the tree.

"I'm guessing we didn't get off to the best of starts." She straightened herself up. "Well met." She made the greeting that Julie was now getting oddly familiar with. Mildred had told her that it was okay for her to reply in kind, but it still felt awkward to do so, so she stuck to what she knew and offered out a hand.

"Julie Hubble. Pleased to meet you."

The witch looked at the proffered hand and then up at Julie and back down again.

"Lily Hogweed." She winced as she spoke.

"I've got some paracetamol if you want it?" Julie's hand reached automatically for the bag that was slung over one shoulder, but Lily waved the offer away.

"This feeling will pass. Unlike the poor witch over there, I will be fine."

"Do you know who she is?" Julie asked, not really expecting an answer.

"New girl on the witches council if I'm not mistaken." Julie caught a flash of something silver in colour appear from beneath Lily's cloak. Her suspicion as to what it was confirmed when she heard the sound of a lid being unscrewed.

"You really think there's time for that?" She chastised, only to find herself accepting the hip flask as it was silently passed to her. She took a nip from the flask and was surprised by the warmth the liquid seemed to give her. "That's amazing," she finally admitted as her voice returned to her.

Lily took the flask back and walked a little unsteadily over to where the fallen witch lay. "I don't know what she ran into, but I think it's safe to say it wasn't good."

Julie found herself keeping her distance. "She was still alive when I found her. Is she…."

There was a shake of the head. "She's still alive."

"But you said…"

"That she'd lost her soul." Lily gently prised open one eyelid and there was the briefest of reactions. "The body is alive but the personality, the essence of the witch has been removed."

"Removed?" Julie raised a hand as she realised that she was simply repeating things in disbelief. "What sort of something could do that?"  
"A powerful sort of something." Lily turned her head in the direction of the path that snaked its way up the hill. "The chances are that she was making her way up to the school."

Julie took a firm step forward. "You're saying it…. Whatever it is… is likely to be heading there?"  
"It's possible."

"Then we have to get up there and warn them."

"We're too late. That won't be possible."

The witch's defeatist attitude was starting to anger Julie. "Well I'm not just going to stand around here in the pouring rain and do nothing." She took a step forward only for Lily to place a bony hand on her arm.

Come away," the witch entreated, but Julie tried unsuccessfully to shrug off the restraining hand. "That's my daughter and her friends up at that castle."

"I understand, but there's nothing to be done tonight."

"There has to be something, there's always something. It's just a matter of working out what."

"Magic can't get in. This is the limit." By way of demonstration the witch produced a small ball of light from the palm of one hand and propelled it in the direction of the school. It travelled a few metres before fading away into nothingness. "That light should shine for twelve hours," she explained. "There is something in the air preventing magic from passing through. Every spell, every enchantment I used to try and reach the young woman you found failed. It's like there's a huge magic dampening field in the area." There was a slight shrug of the shoulders, during which time she took another belt from the hip flask. "It could be connected to the business with the founding stone, it could be connected to the coven of witches Marigold Mould was consorting with. At this stage it's impossible to say."

Julie chewed her lip as she tried to keep her patience in check. "You're saying nothing can get in, or you're saying that something has already gotten in? I need you to tell me which one it is."

"Based on what I've just shown you, I'd say we're looking at a magic dampening field around the castle. Nothing magical can get in."

"Well I'm not magical…"

"…But you've been close to those who are," Lily pointed out as Julie's attempt to take more than a few paces along the path resulted in her colliding with an invisible barrier. "No matter what anyone might say, a little of it rubs off on you."

The effect of being pushed back by an invisible something was more than a little unsettling. Julie prodded at the empty space in front of her and was disturbed by the way that it refused to yield to her touch. She scratched the side of her head and then gestured back to the spot where the witch she'd found still lay. "If whatever did that to her is now in the school and after my daughter and her friends, then I say we need to find another way in there."

"The situation will not be helped if you become hysterical."

"What!" Julie was at the point of wanting to slap the woman. "There could be something really serious about to go down within the walls of the school and all you're willing to do is nothing!"

"I've not been doing nothing," came the patient response. The woman pointed up into the rain soaked sky. Julie raised a hand and spotted a number of witches on brooms unsteadily make their way towards their location.

"You called in the cavalry?"

The witch frowned. "I called in other members of the witches council."

"How? When?" Julie had been at the woman's side ever since she'd appeared out of thin air. There couldn't have been any time for her to put a call in. She narrowed her eyes. "Do you have some sort of secret spidey sense or something?"

"I'm not sure what that means." There was an awkward few moments of silence as both women watched the steady progress of the brooms. It was Lily who broke the silence. "Don't suppose you have any mints!"

* * *

The witch with Melody Evensong's face clasped both hands to her head and prayed for the pain to subside. She was relieved to still be in the relative seclusion of Miss Cackle's office, but that was the only thing she could find to be grateful about. Her head felt as though it was about to split in two and there was a ringing in her ears she dearly hoped would soon ease.

She had let the Hallow girl leave the office, confident that, if asked, she'd recall nothing about their meeting aside from a certain section at the beginning and end. She had tried to sow the seed of doubt within the girl but had been surprised just how quick she'd been to stand up and take the blame for all that had happened. From the moment she'd entered the room and seen the girl in the flesh for the first time, she'd known there and then that things weren't going to be as easy as they'd first imagined. The family tree of the Hallows was littered with names of witches who had chosen themselves over the good of the craft. There had been a hope that the eldest Hallow would carry some of that blood within her, but she was depressingly on the side of the code. So she had let her leave the office and then called upon those others of the coven who had agreed to lend her their strength. She had felt their presence follow her into the school, but they were supposed to remain undetected in the shadows. Hearing Esmeralda Hallow calling them out had caused her to pause for a moment. She felt the push from the others and had reluctantly carried on with the plan.

The shaft of pain arrowing between her eyes told her that she had been right to hesitate. The attempt to take the magic by force alone had completely fallen apart. She closed her eyes and willed the world to stop spinning. She could remember the contact and then the lights had gone out. She had no idea how long she'd been out for, but now she could make out some commotion in the corridors outside. Whatever they had come into contact with had had the strength to just swat them away as though they were nothing more than flies.

Another approach would be needed, but first she had to pull herself together. She pushed the chair back and grasped the edge of the table with both hands. She was certain the affect of the contact would spread like ripples through the group. She had to talk to them, had to get away from where she was before someone found her in her current state. She assumed the clamour outside had something to do with Esmeralda Hallow. There would be time later to find out what, if anything, that contact had done to the girl. What was important now was to get to the rooms she'd been assigned and to report back to the others. This was no longer a straightforward smash and grab.

* * *

"Mildred Hubble, there had better be a very good reason for all that squawking!"

Hecate glared at the young girl in front of her as she materialised at the location where the commotion had been coming from. She had been trying to bring the evening's festivities to a controlled and ordered close before any of the girls reached a point where they were no longer able to contain what they'd eaten. She'd kept a particularly close eye on Maud Spellbody - there was one girl, bright though she might be, who very definitely ended up with eyes bigger than her stomach when sweet treats were on offer. She'd been at the point of opening her mouth to announce that perhaps it was time the girls thought about retiring to their rooms when she'd heard the unmistakable tones of Mildred Hubble drifting through the air.

It was a skill that had been honed over many years of teaching, the ability to hear a cry from almost anywhere within the walls of the castle. As soon as her name was uttered, she was able to tune into the sound and establish where the pupil was. She had clicked her tongue against her teeth and departed the room.

"Miss…" Mildred just about managed to stutter the word out. There was fear and worry on the girl's face, and that was enough to let Hecate know this wasn't some sort of schoolgirl prank. She looked to where Mildred was pointing, and immediately took in the sight "You did right to call out," Hecate told her firmly as hurried to the girl's side. As she'd feared the pupil in question was Esmeralda Hallow.

"I tried waking her, but she just won't respond."

Hecate tuned Mildred's voice out of her head and batted the girl away, throwing out some comment about her remaining exactly where she was. She checked for a pulse, and was reassured to feel the steady beating thump beneath her fingers. The girl's skin was cold and clammy to the touch, and there was no twitch of movement to indicate Esmeralda was aware of anything around her.

"Go to the great hall, find Miss Drill and ask her to oversee getting the rest of the girls back to their rooms." She glanced in Mildred's direction as she realised the girl was still hovering around, that same look of fear and uncertainty on her face. "I'll stay with her Mildred. I'll make sure she's fine. Now go." She raised her voice for the last word and that seemed to do the trick. Mildred was jolted out of her frozen state and moments later Hecate heard the sound of boots on stone as her charge scurried off down the corridor on her appointed mission.

She turned her attention back to Esmeralda and silently hoped that her current state was in no way connected to her earlier interaction with the founding stone. She'd tried to warn Ada that they'd need to keep an eye on the girl, but Ada had brushed the concern to one side. Her own sense of relief at magic returning to the young woman overriding other potential concerns.

All that was mere supposition at the present time. The important thing was to find out what was wrong, and to worry about what might be the cause of it at a later date.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the location of the infirmary. She wanted to get Esmeralda there before Ada appeared on the scene.

* * *

None of the rooms within the school could be described as comfortable. The staff fared better than the pupils, and if you asked the pupils they believed the cats scored higher in the comfort stakes than they did.

The witch took stock of the small garret room she'd been offered. The shutters on the two small windows were buffeted by the storm outside, they rattled and shook with each gust of wind. The disturbance was enough to see the bats hightail it out of there as soon as she opened the door. There was a small fire in the grate but it gave off barely enough heat to take the edge off the freezing air. The furniture within the room could only be described as functional at best, and the one concession towards comfort was a rather tatty looking crocheted blanket. It was a splash of colour in an otherwise featureless room.

She sighed at the bleakness of it all and, with a deft wave of one hand, checked the room for any magical residue that might indicate the presence of an eavesdropping spell. It wasn't that she truly believed anyone in the school was likely to try and bug the room, it was more a habit borne out of years of experience.

The check came back negative and she sat down at the small dressing table. No matter how many times she'd worn the face of another, it was always more than a little disconcerting to see someone else looking back from the mirror. The temptation was always to let the mask slip, to drop the facade when alone, but she knew it had to remain in place. The witches within the school were not fools; some were gullible, some were past their prime but it would be foolhardy in the extreme to underestimate them. The mask had given her a youthful look; she stared at it, inspecting the clear unlined features, the soft flowing long blond hair. There was a flash of something in the eyes, there always was if one stared long enough; a hint of something deeper. The face of youth was not one that sat easy with her; it had been a long time since she'd carried such a feeling of innocence. She closed her eyes and then opened them slowly, pushing away the thoughts of Melody Evensong that tried to rise to the surface. She had taken more than just a simple body print. It wasn't something that was done lightly and she felt the pull of regret at the thought of it. She glanced at the image in the mirror again. They had done what had to be done. There was the chance to take the magic of a founding stone; that was a chance that only came along maybe once in a hundred years. She believed in the cause, believed in what they were doing. They needed the power that magic would give them, and if that meant taking the essence of an innocent, then so be it.

There was no time to delay. She sat upright in the chair and passed her right hand in front of the mirror waiting for the connection to be made.

There was nothing but Melody Evensong's face staring eerily back at her for a few moments and then the familiar shimmer as the call was answered.

"Well met my friends," she greeted them with a smile, trying to ignore the still persistent feeling of nausea.

"You are in?"

"Is that not obvious?"

She raised a hand as several questions were fired her way at the same time. "You must learn patience," she chastised. "Phase one has been completed. I am within the walls of the school and I have set eyes on the witch."

There was another flurry of questions, and she glanced nervously in the direction of the door. "You will bring ruin down on us all if we are discovered," she reminded them. "I must ask you to show a little reserve, a little patience." She waited for a beat. "That's better."

"You have seen her?"

She rolled her eyes as the questioning voice reached her. "I have done more than that. Initial contact was made."

"If you've seen her then why are you still there? I thought we agreed you'd get in there, obtain the magic from her and leave."

"Things aren't that simple."

"I don't see why not."

"We're dealing with stronger magic than we first thought. The Hallow girl is barely in control of it, but it's too embedded to take without her consent."

"So use force."

She shook her head, instantly regretting the move. She winced and waited for the pain to subside. "There's more than one way to take what we need. Trying to tackle the magic head on will not get us results. She has little or no control over it from what I can see."

"We do not have the time to waste."

"This is not wasting time. She saw us."

"Impossible."

"She sensed the presence of the others." She paused and waited for the barrage of incredulous comments to die down. "The magic has made her hyper aware. She is managing it at the moment, but believe me when I say that she won't remain in control of it for long. She is currently unconscious as a result of our initial contact.""

"We cannot maintain a barrier indefinitely. It has already been noticed."

"The reward is worth the risk."

"So you say."

"I think you're missing the bigger picture. The mighty Hallow family is already on the slide. What could be more damaging to a once respected name than the eldest daughter revealing her affiliation to our cause."

"You're crazy. This was never part of the plan. Take the magic you said. You said you'd get in there and take the magic and we could have what we wanted."

"Well now I've changed my mind. It will take more time, but results are guaranteed."

"Don't complicate things. If you're getting squeamish about the affair then just say. I'll come in and do what needs to be done."

"This has nothing to do with squeamishness. I am not killing the girl, the magic will destroy her before too long. All I need to do is wait. With the barrier around the school she has no avenue of escape. It is fitting that a Hallow will be our saviour."

There was another round of raised voices and she once again motioned for them to be quiet. "We will have her magic. We will have what's left of the family name. I just need time."

"And what if she can't be persuaded?"

"The magic will consume her and we will be here to take it." She allowed herself a smile. "We will have what we want…. One way or another."


End file.
